It is strange being a Stay-at-home-Dad. For instance a chant of "ihopeiwinatoaster, ihopeiwinatoaster" floating up the basement steps. My nearly seven [eight] (now nine) ((now ten)) [[eleven]] {twelve} year-old twin boys concoct, devise, arrange, invent, write, say, imagine and dream the damndest things. Things that make me wonder. Ideas and stories that I may think on for days after I encounter them. I'll share some here. They made me do this.
Essential. Childhood. Nonsense. Explained.

Monday, April 15, 2013

The Silly or The Serious?

Sometimes I can't decide whether to put the important stuff I want to tell you first, or start with the essential nonsense and then segue into the good stuff. Truth be told, I am not even sure which thing is important, which is primary, the silly or the serious. Oddly, I guess I have already addressed that some where else, perhaps at a staff meeting I missed, because I tend to mix it up.

We are given gifts. You can argue against that, if you want, but what I wrote - 'we are given gifts' - is written so that it is inarguable. It is a fact to me. In a recent post, I covered some of my feelings about the gifts we are given and how I feel that these gifts are ours to open, that others should not open them for us, we must discover our own gifts.

We should be led to our gifts though; our dreams, hopes, ambitions and even fears can show us our way. As parents we try to keep it all on the table. Sports are good, sure. Music is important, yes. Faith and religion, the fundamentals at least, yep. Good nutrition, check. Sleep habits, helmets... You know what, that's an impossible task isn't it? We can't do it all, show them it all, experience it all. What if I accidentally left out curling and opera (which I might) and that is their gift?

Back to 'we are given our gifts.' If they are ours we will find them, or, more accurately, they will find us.

Marci, in whose Faith I have absolute faith, often finds things for us to do, spiritually, if you will. She found this:

This is was the master - as I realize there that Nick arbitrarily added his name to the copy I had sitting buried on my desk - and I made copies for all four of us. After explaining that if you felt you had a gift you checked it off, we went of into our prospective (is that the right word?) corners and filled in our sheets. Then, we got back together at the table and each person went through the list, telling the others if he or she had this gift.

It was sweet and funny and a little heartbreaking at times. It was revealing and reassuring and confirming. I'm not sure what the boys came away with, when it is all said and done, but, I'd really recommend this little exercise.

I once said that I wanted to "show them them" here. I love when you see inside your child; when you look beyond the sweet outer beauty, beyond the freckles and dimples, deeper than the golden hair and shining smiles, and see their inner beauty, see the rich beauty of their souls, shimmering, radiating, maturing.

I see that innerness, that soulfulness, everywhere, when I look for it. I see it in the classroom, that determination to learn and make friends; I see it on the sports fields where I see the duality that is determination and dignity; I see it at church where a face lights up when a truth is revealed through ritual. I watch them watch things - movies and television, baseball games and concerts, big kids playing and adults interacting, video games and Battleship and, and, I see the gifts as they are presented to them.

The gift of Wonder. The gift of Truth. The gift of Art. The gift of Courage.

I am glad I look in them, as they look out, because it forces me to remember when I was given these gifts. And that is a very good thing, because, well, I have forgotten them, forgotten their innate importance.

Someday, maybe soon, I will have the courage to tell you - you reading now, in the spring of '13, and to you, my dear sons, as you read this some day off in the future - tell you of the dreams I have, for I do have them. Tell you about the gifts I have let go, squandered perhaps, and tell you that the gifts don't stop, that gifts turn into dreams and, even if the dream doesn't come true, the value of the gift remains unchanged. The gifts are golden, the dreams are but fragile lace.

Honestly, anyone with any sense would just end this here.

Not me...

The Academy of Meteorological Iconography, AMI, has recently revamped the symbols your local TV guy and newspaper will be using:

I like them, they are fresh and eye-catching and I think we'd all agree that "clowdy" is a better spelling of the word. There is a second page:

I am not sure how necessary the "lava" one is but, I really like the "dew" one. I personally like to know when the grass is going to be be soaking wet, you know, so I wear the right shoes - sandals suck in the dew.

I think AMI has done a great job with these, you'll be seeing them soon.

From Marci's "... things you don't expect to hear from the backseat ..."

"I think we just broke the law."

Yes, yes we did, son...

(In my defense, it was a 'no left turn' sign out of a school that was only for school hours. Alright, that was just implied, not actually stated but, the road wasn't very busy and I didn't want to get lost and... oh, bother.)